Lower Manhattan Co-Op's FISP Work Drags on, and a Demolition Project Looms

It’s been a year since we started the latest cycle of my Lower Manhattan co-op’s Facade Inspection & Safety Program work, and our scaffold and sidewalk shed are still up. Our FISP assessment is still going up. And shareholders are FISP-fed up. In addition to the project’s seemingly endless cost and inconvenience, we’ve recently learned that a massive demolition and construction project is planned for the lot across the street. Sometime between the end of our current FISP work and the almost certain start of the next in 2029, a 900-foot-tall structure will be erected on the one sliver of neighborhood property not protected by the Landmarks Preservation Commission that will block our building’s one sliver of direct sunlight.

The first of what may be a string of units in our co-op has gone on the market, supposedly because “this” doesn’t happen in other buildings. I doubt the seller is referring to the upcoming construction project. Distressed residents of any building in any neighborhood are no match for developers with deep pockets and giant loopholes.

More likely, the seller is referring to the fluidity of our finances. The only subject that gets more shareholder pushback than a large assessment to pay for work we can no longer avoid is the creation of a reserve fund to allow us to better manage future expenses. And we have three doozies in the pipeline: replacing our gas/oil heating system with forced air to comply with Local Law 97, replacing our wonky elevator to avoid turning our building into a walk-up and replacing our 93-year-old electrical system to have any hope of powering both.

Yet in my building, shareholders are laser focused on completing our FISP work so the scaffold and the shabby, dusty, sidewalk shed can be removed. We’re like the weary homeowners in the movie, “The Money Pit,” who get the same answer from the construction crew every time they ask for an end date to their home renovation: “Two weeks.” Our board also has a standard answer for when our FISP work will conclude: “end of next month.”

In the 18 months since the board announced our current FISP project, and the assessments to fund it, shareholder reaction has undergone significant shifts, a phenomenon that might be explained by the well-known Kübler-Ross Model. Originally designed to describe the five stages of grief (denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance), the model is often adapted to explain reactions to other significant changes and upheavals. In preparation for my co-op’s next annual meeting, our board may find it helpful to consider a FISP adaptation of the Kübler-Ross model.

Stage 1. Denial   

Not again. Didn’t we just do major facade work?

The building looks fine.

We need a new board.

Stage 2. Anger

I can’t afford another assessment.  

I can’t take the noise because:

·  I work from home.

·  I have a baby.

·  I’m retired.

·  I’m tired.

·  I’m extremely sensitive to loud noises.

I can’t go a year without:

·  Opening my windows.

·  Seeing through the construction dust on my windows.

·  Opening my window blinds.

·  Using my terrace.

·  Using the roof garden.

We need a new board.

Stage 3. Bargaining

Can’t we put it off another year?

Can’t we sue the last contractor?

Can’t we go on a maintenance reduction to compensate for not being able to open our windows and use outdoor spaces, and for the loss of the “quiet enjoyment”of our apartments?

Can’t we a get a new board?

Stage 4. Depression

My windows are so grimy.

I have to clean my air conditioner filter every week.

I work remotely and don’t have an office to go to.

I don’t have a second home to escape to.

We need a new board.

Stage 5. Acceptance

I stopped noticing the workers going up and down past my windows all day.

I don’t even bother to close my blinds anymore.

The shed does provide shelter from the sun. And the rain. And the snow. 

I don’t want to run for the board. They don’t do such a bad job.

Besides, the work will be finished by the end of next month.